


Manner of Death

by ladygabe



Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Ficlet, Gen, I made myself sad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-09
Updated: 2016-02-09
Packaged: 2018-05-19 06:51:01
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5957737
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ladygabe/pseuds/ladygabe
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When forced to choose between her biological son and Poe, Leia does not hesitate.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Manner of Death

The whistle of the blaster bolt echoed throughout the room, and then all went silent. Kylo Ren stumbled back a step, one gloved hand still firm on Poe’s windpipe, holding him aloft. The other hand slowly rose, covering the place his heart had been. A wisp of smoke escaped between his fingertips. 

Kylo Ren turned his head just enough to meet eyes identical to his own. 

“You’re not my son,” Leia snarled, and pulled the trigger again. 

Poe awoke to a soft touch on his forehead, deceitfully delicate fingertips brushing away sweat and wayward curls. It took him a long moment to realize his head was in someone’s lap, and longer still for the General’s face to come into focus above him. He was startled to realize her eyes were red; she had been crying. 

“General,” he croaked, trying to remember how his arms worked, so that he could reach up to touch her face. 

“Poe.” Their private joke fell away in an instant. Leia cupped his cheek, and he realized she was shaking. 

It took effort to turn his head, as his throat protested, but when he looked to the side he could see Kylo Ren’s body, lying where it had fell. His eyes had been closed, and his hair arranged neatly around face. With his hands tucked over his chest, he looked almost peaceful. 

Leia had followed his gaze. “I had hoped,” she began, voice hoarse with emotion. “Luke told me, once, how our father had died. How he turned back to the light, at the very end. How he died, not Vader, but Anakin.” Her breath hitched, and she closed her eyes tightly, looking at the moment very sad, and very old. 

Poe understood her point without her needing to finish it. He struggled upward, ignoring the protests of his body as he sat up and drew her into his arms. It was so easy to forget how small she was until he was so close. 

“Ben died a long time ago, Leia,” Poe said. He did not know if it was true. He had never known Ben, never known if there had been kindness in the man that had ripped apart planets and people without guilt. He did not know if Kylo Ren was a twisted version of what once had been a good soul, or if it was Ben who had been the mask over something dark. But the idea was what comfort he could offer, and he would be the last to deny Leia whatever solace she required. 

They sat that way for a long time, until Leia had poured out enough of her grief to move again. She carried Kylo Ren’s helmet, and Poe carried his body. No one spoke as they passed, nor dared stop them. 

The funeral was quiet, two small figures dwarfed by the height and heat of the flame before them. Poe could not mourn the death that had brought them here, but he could mourn for Leia, and, in the end, that was the support she needed most.

**Author's Note:**

> Written in response to the prompt: "There's some battle going on and the only way for Leia to save Poe is to shoot Kylo. And she does. She's feels horribly guilty about it but she doesn't hesitate."
> 
> Originally posted [here](http://tfa-kink.dreamwidth.org/2821.html?thread=4219397#cmt4219397).


End file.
